There are precious few moments in life that can be perfectly preserved in the warm light of memory. Too often, things become fuzzy, tarnished, or blurry with the passing of time. To remember, to truly be able to return to a moment, there must be the right mix of emotions. There needs to be something at stake, something to be gained... or lost. 

These are the circumstances in which I found myself when I met Laura. I knew, in my heart of hearts, I knew, Laura would be my mother-in-law. I also understood that she was a brilliant psychiatrist. I am still not sure which profession a young man would believe to be ideal for a mother-in-law... but I knew psychiatrist was not it. I was, I will admit, just a little nervous. Would I make a good impression? Would this be the beginning of one of the most important relationships in my life? Or would Laura take one look at me, mentally flip through the pages of the DSM-5, and decide there are just too many screws loose and maybe it would be best if her daughter didn't see me anymore. The stakes were high. 

And then Celine and I walked through the front door and all the nervousness melted away. Laura greeted me with the warmest smile and hug. I felt welcome, but also like I was home. Like I had known her for years. And within minutes, we were all laughing. Laura was laughing, Celine was laughing, and I was realizing... they have the same laugh, the same smile, and they both have the same way of asking questions in this funny kind of logically looping spaghetti style. But more than anything, I realized, Laura was the well spring of kindness, compassion, humor, and understanding that flowed in such abundance through Celine. I realized that Laura was not just Celine's mom, and Maggie's mom, but she was my mom, too. She was my family. 

I will be forever grateful for the years that followed our first meeting. I will treasure the memory of you meeting my extended family at the wedding, especially Sittie and Poppop, and the happiness you brought them. I will be forever grateful for how you made me part of your wonderful family and the love it has brought me.  I will never forget the first time I called you mom, and the spark of joy in your eyes. I will never forget your first reaction to my attempt to speak to you in French. Or the family trip to the Royal Gorge with Boxy and Edgar... and how you wouldn't let Boxy give me any snark. And our family trip the cabin in the mountains, all of the horribly sad and dramatic 90s movies we've watched together, and of course, the fact that I never once beat you in a game of Scrabble (like, not even close). I always laugh, thinking back to that one year the Denver Broncos were doing well, and you got swept away in football... but you didn't watch the games on TV, you found some website that animated the players movements on the field while playing the audio of the announcers. You had no real interest in football, you just wanted to support Denver. I will fondly remember all the massive hunks of stinky cheese you sneakily fed Khala under the table. I miss how happy you were and how interested you were to hear all the details of everything Celine and I did, every place we went, all the food we tasted. I miss you dearly.

Thank you, Mom, for always supporting us and encouraging us to be true to ourselves. Thank you for teaching us, that above all else, to love and to be kind to each other is life's greatest blessing. I love you.